Inspiration
by Atomix330
Summary: After nearly fifteen years, Harry Potter returns to the Wizarding World. Everything is not as it seems and he is not what everyone expects. This is an Order of the Phoenix AU. (Everyting you recognise belongs to JK Rowling)
1. Chapter 1 - Kings Cross

**Inspiration – Chapter One – Kings Cross**

_A/N: Hello! Welcome to another of my attempts at Harry Potter Fan Fiction! Please tell me what you think! (I know this chapter is short, but it serves as an introduction for this tale.) Without further ado…_

* * *

"…_the train now standing at Platform Nine is the 10:31 to Edinburgh – calling at; Harrogate..." _crackled the station announcer as Hermione Granger pushed the trolley carrying her trunk and cat carrier forward between Platforms Nine and Ten.

"…_York…"_

It was September the First; the first day of her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been two and a half weeks since the severed head of Cedric Diggory had appeared before terrified onlookers at the end of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. The Tournament's crystal trophy carried the grisly message as the dark mark was cast from the Astronomy Tower.

"…_Northallerton…"_

Never since the sacrifice of Harry Potter and the disappearance of Lord Voldemort had the Wizarding World been so shaken. It had long been assumed that Harry Potter died as an infant along with his parents when his home was personally attacked by Voldemort.

"…_Darlington…"_

But according to the reports from the time, when Ministry Hit-Wizards entered the property in Godric's hollow that fatal night nearly fifteen years ago, only the bodies of James and Lily were discovered. The remains of Voldemort and baby Harry had vanished. It was theorised that the bodies had been vaporised in a ferocious burst of magic as Voldemort's killing curse rebounded off the child's body. Neither the Dark Lord, nor the Boy Saviour had been seen since.

"…_Durham…"_

Hermione mulled this over as she marched toward the barrier that formed the gateway to King's Cross' secret magical platform, her parents following on behind.

"…_Newcastle…"_

"This is it dear," said her mother, "you're going away again." Hermione's mother sniffed, pulling her daughter into a hug.

"I know," she responded.

"Are you sure about this?" asked her father with a face of concern, as he ruffled her hair.

"Of course Dad," Hermione stared her father down. "It's like you said, if we stop going about our ordinary lives, it means the terrorists have won." Hermione recalled, word for word, her father's comments in the aftermath of the 7/7 London bombings – when four Islamic extremists blew up three tube trains and a double decker bus, killing 52 people.

"…_Morpeth…"_

"I just want you to be safe," Mr Granger said gently as he hugged Hermione.

"Hogwarts is safest place in the country for this kind of thing."

"Well if you say so."

"Dad, it is. We've already had this conversation and you've already had guarantees from Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall."

"But-", Mrs Granger began before being stopped from saying whatever she was about to by Mr Granger who cut across her.

"Enough. Now, don't you have a train to catch?" he smiled.

"…_Alnmouth…"_

Hermione gathered her parents into a final hug.

"I love you, but Dad is right, I've got to go. What kind of impression will I make as a new prefect if I'm late?"

"…_Berwick-on-Tweed…"_

Mrs Granger chuckled before stepping back and looking her daughter up and down. "Well whatever you do, stay safe and remember to write."

"I will."

Hermione turned away. After checking for anybody who would see what was about to happen, confidently pushed her trolley at the barrier which seemed to swallow her up until all that was left on the platform were two parents, comforting one another as the commuters of Kings Cross went about their business, blissfully unaware of what had just happened and what was going to happen in the months that followed.

"…_and Edinburgh. There is a restaurant car on this service. The train now arriving at Platform Three is the 10:13 from York…"_

* * *

_A/N: So what do you think? The premise of this story is that after being dead to the world for the best part of fifteen years, Harry Potter returns to the Wizarding World. This story will start from around Chapter 10 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. But as this is an AU, the Golden Trio does not exist and Hermione has had a relatively normal summer with her parents. Please remember that this is only a prologue to (hopefully) a larger work! Let the chaos commence…_

_Please follow and favourite; tell me what you think! _


	2. Chapter 2 - A Stranger on a Train

**Inspiration – Chapter 2 – A Stranger on a Train **

_A/N: Hello! I know it was short but my first chapter seems to have garnered a good response. Hopefully more becomes clear below…I hope I have done it justice._

* * *

After Hermione ran through the barrier and out onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, she had to pause to take of the magnificent sight. The scarlet locomotive, hissing every so often under a cloak of brass and steel. Trunks were already being loaded into the baggage van as Hermione approached along with dozens of caged owls and other various parcels and pieces of luggage.

Before she handed over her trunk and Crookshanks' cat carrier, she extracted a satchel that she had prepared that morning, that carried everything she would need for the eight and a half hour long journey to the Scottish Highlands: wand, cloak, uniform, robes, purse, quill, ink, parchment, books and some knitting if she got bored. The bag wouldn't have been able to contain everything had she not prepared ahead the previous year and learnt how to perform feather-light and undetectable extension charms.

Bag in hand, she made her way to the nearest carriage, found a bathroom and changed into her school robes before reappearing minutes later on the platform, her prefect badge pinned to her chest.

* * *

For Hermione, the next quarter of an hour was spent guiding people towards the train, confiscating contraband, putting three second-year Slytherins in detention for foul language and comforting a first year who had just left his parents. It was hard work but Hermione took it in her stride – after all, it was only the first fifteen minutes. The scene on the platform could only be described as organised chaos.

In the minutes before eleven o'clock, the only bright spots were bumping into Neville Longbottom (the other Gryffindor Prefect) and Daphne Greengrass – who had been made a Slytherin Prefect along with Draco Malfoy. Daphne was somebody Hermione considered a friend, despite the differences – a Gryffindor muggleborn and the heiress of one of the last pureblood magical dynasties were not considered instant bedfellows but each had an enormous amount of respect and admiration for each other after Daphne helped Hermione defeat a troll that had somehow made its way into the castle during their first Halloween at Hogwarts.

Neville Longbottom was one of the only people Hermione could call a friend within Gryffindor Tower and one of the few people who had ignored Ronald Weasley who had tried to go out of his way to isolate Hermione from her housemates since her first year after Hermione 'embarrassed' him – she was only trying to help. He was just incompetent.

Weasley was considered 'Prince of Gryffindor' by some after he saved his sister from the jaws of Slytherin's monster during his second year, but Hermione and some of the other, more mature Gryffindors saw him as possessing below average intelligence and gifted with tremendously bad manners. Even his twin brothers looked on at his actions in disgust.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised that Neville had made prefect; she had worried that due to his popularity and demonstration of leadership within the house, Weasley would have made prefect over either of them. Then she had to remind herself that Professor McGonagall probably shared her opinions of Weasley.

The teasing of Hermione, from Weasley and his cronies - Seamus Finnegan and Cormac McLaggen – had continued from the last four years. It came to head when they decided to trick her into believing that Quidditch superstar and Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum, had asked her to accompany him to the Yule Ball.

Although originally intended as a joke at Hermione's expense, she would never forget the looks of fury shot at her by almost every girl in the room as she danced with Krum at the ball. As it happened, Hermione bothered to check the facts and checked with Victor whether the invitation was genuine. Weasley's farce was revealed there and then and Hermione's hopes were crushed, but Krum who was against the odds, still without a date asked her to come along anyway. They had a wonderful evening and their friendship had blossomed from there. They had kept in touch over the summer and Krum had promised her ticket to his next game in Britain. The joke was all on Weasley as Hermione became the envy of the ballroom.

* * *

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by Daphne and Neville. Daphne was tapping her watch.

"It's two minutes to eleven, we'd better get on board, it wouldn't do to be late," said the young blonde witch.

Daphne had 'developed' physically over the summer and Hermione was sure that her reputation as 'ice-queen' of Slytherin would only be bolstered by it. Daphne and the Greengrass family reminded her of the muggle aristocracy and their stately homes and landed estates. Greengrass Manor was nearly the size of Buckingham Palace and as elegant as Blenheim in Oxfordshire. The Grangers had the privilege of being Daphne's guests to her parents' Mid-summer garden party for the past three years. The situation had caused quite a stir in the society pages of the _Daily Prophet_; muggles, at a pureblood's garden party? There was outrage, until Adrian Greengrass (Daphne's father) released a steely statement:

"_If my guests have a problem with my guest list then they have a problem with me and I would kindly ask them to stop associating with myself and my family. Muggles are in many cases much better people than the wizards and witches I do business with."_

It didn't stop the prejudice but it did remove it from the society pages of the _Daily Prophet._

The three teenagers made for the first coach of the train, only pausing to watch the annual spectacle of the Weasley family arriving on the platform, seconds before the scheduled time of departure. As Hermione, Neville and Daphne took their seats in the Prefect's Carriage, Hermione heard the station clock chime eleven times. Somewhere, a whistle blew and the steel motion of the locomotive hissed into life as the Hogwarts Express started on its journey north.

* * *

After sitting attentively through the nearly hour long prefect meeting chaired by the Head boy and Head Girl, Hermione didn't think she could bear one more cutting remark from Draco Malfoy who decided to sit himself next to Daphne. Malfoy was still questioning why a pureblood heiress would decide to associate with a "filthy mudblood" (Hermione) and a "blubbering slob of a boy with little magical talent" (Neville) when she could be spending time with the scion of a wealthy, civilised pureblood family.

"Father assures me that there will be big changes this year at our disgrace of a school, it won't be too long until filth like yourselves will be ancient history," Malfoy simpered. When Neville heard the word 'filth', Hermione had to put a restraining hand on his wand arm.

"Hogwarts is not a disgrace, it's just attended by disgraceful students," Hermione retorted.

"You should learn to respect your betters Granger," Draco hissed.

"I think that we can all mutually agree that the youngest Weasley son is a disgrace," Daphne said and in a rare moment of unity, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy nodded simultaneously.

"Yes, but-", but Daphne cut Draco off with a sharp look.

"…and I'm sure Hermione does respect her betters," she said, her tone icy as she rose from her seat, indicating to her friends to rise also, "but I find it hard to imagine that she respects somebody who insults, bullies and teases herself and for that matter, her friends. I would be amazed if she considers you to be one of her 'betters', I certainly do not." She turned to Neville and Hermione; "Find another compartment. I'll catch you up. Mr Malfoy and myself have unfinished business to discuss," she said in a sickly sweet, almost sing-song voice whilst flashing an almost reptilian smile.

Malfoy gulped.

* * *

"What do you think she'll do to him?" Hermione asked as they made their way along the carriage.

"I have no idea, but I'm glad she isn't angry at me and I hope that whatever she does, shuts the blond prig up." Neville chuckled.

* * *

As it happened, Daphne did all the talking.

"We have to work together this year and you may not like me and you may not like my friends but it is really none of your concern. I do not need your protection and if you ever hurt my friends again, you will need protection from me. At the very least, be civil or I'll send you to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. A situation I'm sure, that would please a great many people. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." If Malfoy could get any paler, he did now as he shrank from Daphne's gaze. Her ice blue eyes ablaze.

"Good. Why we have to work together to uphold the honour of the noble house of Salazar, I'll never know but I can tell you this; I don't like it. Remember that we have to show the first years the way to our Common Room after the feast."

Malfoy nodded.

"And if you can possibly, find a way off your high pedestal, I'd appreciate it if you apologised to Hermione and Neville." She was out of the compartment a few seconds later. Malfoy sighed in relief.

* * *

Daphne caught up with Hermione and Neville who were still navigating their way through the crowded carriages of the train, looking for an empty compartment. They were coming to the end of the second to last carriage when Hermione decided she had enough. The compartment she was stood in front of only had a single occupant who was staring out of the window.

"We aren't going to find much better," she told the others, before wrenching the door open. "Excuse me, do you mind if we sit in here? Everywhere else is full."

The occupant turned from the window to look at the newcomers. He appeared to take a wire out of his ear before speaking.

"Not at all, have a seat. It's busier than I expected."

The occupant was a boy. He gestured to them to sit. His voice was clipped and calm yet had a slight American twang to it. Hermione, Neville and Daphne had never seen him before, despite the fact he looked about their age. He wasn't a foreigner but his face was tanned, like he had come from abroad. His black hair was messy and his glasses sat primly on his nose. He had an athletic build and Hermione would even categorise him as being slightly attractive.

"Interesting…" the boy muttered as Hermione, Neville and Daphne took their seats.

"Sorry, but what is interesting?" asked Daphne.

"A Slytherin and two Gryffindors, sharing a compartment and not arguing, things have changed since my father's day."

"Your father went to Hogwarts?"

"A long time ago."

There was an awkward silence. The boy started to twirl the wire he had pulled from his ear between his fingers.

"Are those earphones?" Hermione blurted out.

"Yes," the boy replied.

"Earphones?" asked a confused Neville.

"Miniature devices that emit sound and fit in the ear. Muggles use them to listen to music from a music player. It's like having a portable gramophone."

"Very good," said the boy, "I didn't really think that people would recognise them."

"I'm muggle-born." Hermione smiled. "My name's Hermione, this is Neville and Daphne," she indicated her friends.

"So is my Mum," the boy said wistfully. "A muggle-born, that is."

"But electricity isn't meant to work around magic."

"Do you believe everything you've been taught? With a few modifications, of course it can work. This stuff is really quite common in the States."

"States?" Daphne asked curious as to what this stranger could be referring to.

"The United States of America, a very large country, 3,500 miles and a whole ocean away from here," said the boy, looking out of the window.

"Is that where you are from?" asked Hermione.

"No, I live on an island in the Caribbean, I got these," he indicated the earphones and an iPod which he extracted from a pocket, "on 13th Avenue in New York City." As Hermione recalled, the 13th Avenue was the equivalent of London's Diagon Alley.

"I didn't think it was possible for such things to exist. Can I try it?" asked Hermione hopefully.

"Of course," the boy handed her an earbud. She put it in her ear and heard something she identified as being by Beethoven after a few seconds.

"The Seventh Symphony?" Hermione asked, the boy nodded. "Not only a stranger, but a stranger with good taste in music, can they have a go?" Hermione indicated Neville and Daphne.

"Be my guest," the boy smiled, "it's nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Nothing special? It shouldn't be possible."

"Anything is possible if you apply yourself," the boy replied.

"Surely this violates the laws on the misuse of muggle artefacts?" Daphne said, taking the earphone offered by Neville.

"Even if it is illegal, it is brilliant. That is a really nice piece of music," Neville said.

"I have Beethoven's complete works on there and yes it is legal, my Dad checked," the boy smiled.

"That is a remarkable piece of magic," said Daphne, pulling the wire from her ear.

"Music is something that is beyond the power of magic, don't you think?"

"Oh certainly," Daphne agreed. "But I have another question, who are you?"

"Forgive me," the boy said looking sheepish. "I've been really rude to the three of you, I should have introduced myself when you came in. My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

The smiles on Hermione, Neville and Daphne's faces vanished and were replaced with frowns. Once more an awkward silence smothered the compartment.

Once again, Hermione was the one to break it: "That is impossible. Harry Potter is dead."

* * *

_A/N: Well, what do you think? Thoughts? Please leave a review, I'd be eternally grateful! The next chapter will be up as soon as it can be written!_


	3. Chapter 3 - Vows

**Inspiration – Chapter Three – Vows**

_A/N: Hello! Thanks for the awesome response for the last two chapters, now this going to seem really odd but it is very likely that the chapters of this story will not be of equal lengths. I'm sorry if it puts you off but I think it is the best way to get the story across. Alas, I am rambling, so, onwards…_

* * *

"…_That is impossible. Harry Potter is dead."_

"Anything is possible, you merely choose whether or not believe it." Harry said simply. "Consider this; it's Halloween 1990, Lord Voldemort appears in the little village of Godric's Hollow, he enters a house, there is an almighty explosion and the Potters found dead, baby Harry and Voldemort are presumed dead. But, who discovered the bodies? How do you know that any of the four people who 'died' that night in 1990 are actually dead and buried?"

Hermione, Daphne and Neville sat in contemplation for a moment.

Daphne was the first to speak; "We don't. But it doesn't prove your identity."

"Would this?" Harry curled his left hand into a fist, muttered something and presented it to the other three members of the compartment. There on his ring finger, all three could see a silver ring, set with a large flawless, blood red ruby. Hermione could see what looked like a coat of arms engraved upon the silver.

"A Potter family ring," Neville said shortly before muttering and producing something similar on his own finger. "I'm not really supposed to show you this, but given the circumstances…" Neville presented his fist, on his index finger was a plain gold ring set with a silver coat of arms.

"Longbottom? Any relation to Frank and Alice? They were my parent's friends before-"

"-before they were tortured into insanity by a group of Death Eaters headed by Bellatrix Lestrange who then disappeared." Neville finished.

"Not entirely accurate, but correct in essentials." Harry replied. "My parents said they were good people."

"Not entirely accurate?" asked Neville angrily. "The only reason I'm sat here now is because I was at my grandmother's for the evening!" Neville was going red and started to sniff as the two girls moved to calm him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-", Harry stammered in surprise as he watched the boy's reaction. "It doesn't matter, it's a story for another time."

"It doesn't matter?!" asked Hermione, staring at Harry. "How can you say that?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Do you normally bring up such painful, personal subjects when you meet new people?" Daphne challenged him, the question wasn't intended to be answered as she ploughed on. "No, I think you've done enough. Do us a favour and go back to your music," she glared at him, icy blue eyes shone into blazing green like laser beams.

"Neville, we can find another compartment if you like?" Hermione said gently.

"No, don't bother. We had enough trouble finding this one."

"I'm sor-," but Daphne shut Harry down with a chilling look.

"Whether you are sorry or not, you've posed enough questions, now I think we would like you to give us some answers." She hissed.

Harry shrugged.

"Well then, let's start with the big one; how and why is Harry Potter sat before us on the Hogwarts Express, when he has literally been dead to the world for the past fifteen years?" Daphne continued.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" asked an incredulous Hermione?

"Because that is the way it is."

"What about Neville's parents?" asked Daphne, "surely you can tell us why you had to bring them up and then decide to disagree with the historical record of their unfortunate fate?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Why not?" Neville growled.

"We could swear an oath of secrecy. Would that satisfy you?" Hermione asked.

"I'd have to have you all make the Unbreakable Vow."

"You're not serious!" said Daphne with a raised eyebrow.

"Deadly." Harry returned her glare from earlier; fiery emeralds burning their way through Daphne's skull. "The information I'm about to divulge could get you killed. You have to understand what you are dealing with. If you don't, the results could be catastrophic." Harry said quietly.

* * *

A stiff silence enveloped the compartment. Daphne was the first to speak.

"Very well," she said, "I'm willing if you two are."

Neville shrugged and looked to Hermione who sat in silent contemplation.

"Alright, but on one condition; the vow is lifted the instant you tell somebody else or when the facts become public knowledge," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"I can agree to that." Harry replied.

"Very well," said Neville, "Daphne, can you act as bonder for Hermione and I?"

"Take Harry's hand Hermione." Daphne instructed as she drew her wand.

Harry was the one who spoke.

"Will you, Hermione, being of sound body and mind, reveal nothing of the conversation we are about to have, to any living soul until there comes a time when the facts that are to be revealed are public knowledge?"

"I will," said Hermione.

A flaming tendril of brilliant orange light snaked from the tip of Daphne's wand and began to encircle Harry and Hermione's linked hands.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, keep this knowledge from those who may wish to do me harm?"

"I will," said Hermione.

A second tendril of orange flame joined the first to make a fine chain of burning light. The tongues of flame burned brightly for a second before fading.

The process was then repeated for Neville, and finally Daphne while Hermione acted as bonder.

* * *

"Now we can speak freely." Harry said, "as you know, I am-"

"Yes, we made our vows, now you make yours." Daphne interrupted him. "Swear to us that everything we are about to hear is the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Harry shrugged.

"Hermione, will you do the honours between myself and Mr Potter?" Daphne asked sweetly.

Hermione nodded, drawing her wand.

"Will you, Harry Potter, affirm that everything we are about to hear from you is the truth to the best of your knowledge?"

"I will."

A flash of orange flame once again enveloped their linked hands before fading.

* * *

"As I was saying, I am Harry Potter. But for the sake of fairness, I don't really know who you are. If we all introduce ourselves," Harry began. "I'm Harry James Potter, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, born on the Thirty-first of July 1989 to James and Lily Potter and heir to the title of Lord Potter."

"Neville Longbottom, of the Most Ancient House of Longbottom, heir to the title of Lord Longbottom, Earl of Woodstock-under-Croft. I was born on the Thirtieth of July 1989 to Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"Seeing as we are being formal; Lady Daphne Isabella Ophelia Greengrass, of the Noble House of Greengrass. Born January the Seventh, 1989 to Adrian and Isabella Greengrass."

"Hermione Jean Granger. I don't have any titles. I'm a muggleborn. But if you are interested, I was born on September the Nineteenth 1988 to Dominic and Emily Granger."

"So, now that we've dispensed with the formalities, tell us: how is Harry Potter alive?"

* * *

_A/N: Questions, questions…the next chapter will be coming soon. But before I go, would anybody have a problem if this story went up to 'M' rating – not because it will be graphic but because of language or suggestive language?_


	4. Chapter 4 - Unlikely Bedfellows

**Inspiration – Chapter Four – Unlikely Bedfellows**

_A/N: Are you all still here? If you are I am impressed._

* * *

"Let's start with what everyone else will know within the next week or two. The story that will be printed in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow will say that Harry Potter was sent abroad after the _tragic_ demise of his parents on October 31st 1990. Harry studied for four years at the Salem Academy of Magic in Massachusetts in the United States and that he has returned to Hogwarts to study his OWLs as per his parent's wishes. Harry was sorted into…etcetera, etcetera." Harry said sardonically.

"But-" Daphne began.

"But that's not the truth." Hermione surmised.

"The first thing you have to know about the truth is that it is only as good as the records you keep. 'He who controls the past, controls the future.'"

"Orwell?" asked Hermione.

"1984. The perfect handbook for anybody wishing to create a totalitarian state where the population are no better than sheep. We aren't living in a dictatorship but the meaning holds." Harry summarised.

"Orwell?" asked Neville, "I've never heard of him."

"He's a muggle author," explained Hermione. "In 1949, he wrote this book that satirised dictatorships whilst giving readers an idea of what such a life would be. He was way ahead of his time. It's a really good dystopian novel. Dad has a copy," Hermione mused, "I'll owl him when we get to Hogwarts and ask him to send it on, it's a really good read. But anyway…" Hermione drew her rambling to a close.

"Thank-you." Harry nodded his head in her direction. "The old saying 'knowledge is power' is never invalid. The _Daily Prophet_ is Magical Britain's largest daily newspaper and the largest magical news corporation in Magical Britain."

"We have a five percent stake in it." Neville chimed in.

"So when the _Prophet_ broke the news that the Ministry had announced that the Potters had been killed by Voldemort,nobody bothered to question it. Did they?"

"No."

"Nope."

"The Potters were presumed dead."

"Only a handful of people knew any different. Even if Voldemort died, there were still a whole merry band of dark wizards who would happily carry out reprisals and retribution against those who defeated their leader."

"Some of their children are at Hogwarts – Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Montague, Flint…" Daphne counted them off on her fingers.

"And at Beauxbatons in France, Durmstrang in Eastern Europe, the Toverschool in Holland and the Zauberschule in Germany. Many Death Eater families fled to the continent after the demise of Voldemort after the Ministry decided to actively pursue those suspected of supporting Voldemort."

"My family considered doing something similar." Daphne admitted. Harry drew his wand and levelled it at her.

"She's not-" Hermione began as Daphne raised her hands in surrender but she was interrupted by the blonde witch.

"I'm not a Death Eater, neither were my parents." Daphne paused before continuing calmly, "my parents run a massive import-export business in rare magical goods and potion ingredients. We dealt with everyone from the Death Eaters to Dumbledore. When the war ended, we knew there would be some political fall-out because we supplied both sides. So our family came very close to leaving for the French Riviera – we have a summer-home there and we have French relations."

Harry lowered her wand. Daphne lowered her hands.

"Do you really think I'd ever be found in the same compartment as the child of a known Death Eater? After what happened to my parents?" asked Neville. Harry grimaced.

"Honestly Neville, if I had planned to bump you off, I'd have done it years ago!" Daphne said in sickly sweet voice before giggling. Neville playfully punched her in the arm.

"Luckily, he's a keeper, isn't he Daphne." Hermione chimed in. Neville blushed.

"We have him well trained." Daphne looked at Harry.

"I'm still here you know…" Neville said weakly, with a large goofy grin on his face as Hermione put her arm around him and gave him a friendly hug.

Harry looked on at the scene before him in bewilderment; a muggleborn, a pureblood from a Most Ancient and Noble House and the daughter of a family that some would consider to be part of the 'pureblood elite' of Magical British Society' with connections across the political spectrum, and a Slytherin to boot. Harry was surprised to say the least that not only could they share a compartment with one another, but they could joke about with one another, like friends.

Harry coughed. "You asked for the truth, so if I can…" he said, unsmilingly.

"Lighten up, Mr Potter!" called Daphne from across the compartment. Harry raised an eyebrow before responding.

"Call me Harry."

"Harry then. Call me Daphne." Daphne held out her hand but instead of shaking it, to Daphne's surprise, Harry rotated it ninety degrees and kissed the back of it.

Neville wolf-whistled. Daphne's pallor changed from its normal alabaster to a pale pink.

"Has he managed to melt Daphne's frozen heart?" Neville asked Hermione.

"Uh-", but Hermione was interrupted by Daphne glaring at both of them.

Harry was a little bemused by what had just happened. Daphne was stoic.

"If we could get back to the matter at hand?" she said icily. Neville winced.

* * *

"October 31st, 1990. The day Voldemort 'died'." Harry mimed the inverted commas. "From what I've been told, Riddle managed to enter my nursery at the house in Godric's Hollow after climbing through the window. Then as Riddle cast the killing curse at me, it's been suspected that I had a burst of accidental magic. A burst of pure, unfocused, uncontrollable energy and when this burst met Voldemort's spell the curse was reflected back at his body. BOOM!" Harry mimed the explosion. "The resulting explosion of magic blew the room apart. Voldemort's body was vaporised, leaving only a pile of robes, covered in his magical signature. The rebounding curse and burned his magical core and then his body, from the inside out. It left only a pile of ash. I was knocked out, whilst my parents had a rather rude awakening."

"Dumbledore was first on the scene. He sent my parents, dazed and confused, to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. I was nearly left for dead but before Dumbledore left the house, he heard me bawling at the top of my lungs. He got me out and reunited me with my parents."

"So your parents survived?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"James and Lily Potter are not dead?" Neville questioned.

"My Mum and Dad are happy and healthy," Harry smiled. "As I was about to say, my parents recovered consciousness soon after and asked what had happened to me. They had feared the worst. A one year old baby versus a Dark Lord – not exactly a fair fight." Harry shrugged. "Nevertheless, they were overjoyed when Madam Pomfrey put me in my Mum's arms."

"So how come you left?" asked Daphne impatiently, "Why only return now?"

"I'm getting to that." Harry said, slightly irritated by the interruptions. "While they were recovering, Dumbledore suggested that we take a holiday abroad to avoid all the furore that would be generated by the announcement of the death of Voldemort. My parents had gone through a very traumatic experience and had a young child and didn't like publicity, so they agreed. We went to France a day later."

"So why fake your deaths?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore removed the Fidelius charm on the house at Godric's Hollow, and announced to the world that Voldemort had died when a Killing curse cast by him at me was reflected off of my body. There was a massive explosion and James, Lily and Harry Potter were 'missing, presumed dead.' The press took this to mean that there were no survivors and my parents were too happy that I was alive to care. The press printed that we had died and the public believed it. My parents were too busy to care."

"So where did you go."

"My mother, ever the optimist, decided that it would be a good opportunity to start afresh in world without dark wizards who out to get you at every turn. So we immigrated to the States six months later and then onto Jamaica nine months after that. It took us some time to adjust but my parents got used to it. My Dad had to get used to living like a muggle but he adapted."

"I've never been to Caribbean." Hermione said wistfully.

"It's truly wonderful – golden beaches, lush greenery and a clear blue ocean, the likes of which you can only imagine in dreams…." Harry tailed off. "But back to my story before I start feeling homesick."

"Soon after our move across the pond, there was a final act to the First Wizarding War."

"First War?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, there will be a second. Hopefully shorter and less terrible than the last. But there was a final act to the first bought of madness. The defection of Bellatrix Lestrange that December…"

* * *

_A/N: A thousand apologies for not updating this sooner. Truth be told, the majority of this short chapter has been sat on my hard drive for the better part of 5 months… Since my long absence from writing Fan Fiction, I have been reading my work and found that there are many things I would change to improve my work, some of which is very good and some of which is so clichéd and 'ordinary' that it is hard to believe. 'Ordinary' is boring. In this time I've also had a few various ideas for a non-fanfiction creative piece as well as a Harry Potter story I am preliminarily calling "By Royal Command", whizzing around my head. Look out for a snippet or two in the near future…hopefully…_

_In all likelihood, this story and my other major Harry Potter stories: 'Inheritance' and 'Trinity' will be merged together in some way or at least will be due a rewrite. It is more likely that 'Inheritance' and 'Trinity' will merge as the plot line is so similar and my imagination has run dry with them. I will quite probably leave the originals up as some sort of archive. It is possible that a fresh set of eyes would be better if I am to merge these two or three stories so any offers of a beta/cowriter may be considered._

_On a third point, is there any opinions on Archive of Our Own (AO3) are the people on that site the same as those who have already read, reviewed or hated my story?_

_If you may be interested in beta'ing any of my future projects, drop me a line through the traditional way…_


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